


Frigid

by Tardis_221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Angst, M/M, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4316100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tardis_221B/pseuds/Tardis_221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"999, what is your emergency?"<br/>"God, please help me. My fr-friend has been shot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frigid

"999, what is your emergency?"

"God, please help me. My fr-friend has been shot."

"Sir, we need you to stay calm and tell us where you are."

"Some alley, I don't know."

"We have traced the call and we are coming to you. Plea-" Sherlock hung up. 

Sherlock's hands were freezing and he could barely feel them, but he did not stop; he couldn't. A slideshow of his absolute worst memories played non-stop in his mind, but none of them were even close to as bad as the situation before him. He blinked back tears and tried to swallow down the panic that was quickly rising up in his throat. He kept going, even though the blood and the cold made him want to throw up. Sherlock was used to blood. As a chemist, he worked with it a lot. But the sight of John's blood made him sick. There was so much; soaking through John's clothes and onto Sherlock's hands. He heard no ambulance coming to their rescue.

John had been shot in the stomach by a sniper and was bleeding out all over the cement of a freezing alley. Sherlock, becoming desperate, put his lips to John's and breathed. This was not at all how Sherlock wanted their first kiss to be. He wanted it to be tender and passionate; instead, it was bloody and desperate.

"Please, John." The tears were spilling freely now. He heard the desperation in his own shaky voice. Pushing down on John's chest as hard as he could, breathing into him, and repeating. Again and again, he repeated these motions.

"Don't leave me." Sherlock collapsed on the cement sobbing, clutching John's hand. He felt a small squeeze in return and quickly sat up.

"John? John, can you hear me?" Sherlock looked at John, who had his eyes open slightly.

"Sherlock?" He burst into another fit of tears at the sight of John swallowing the blood that must have been in his throat.

"You're going to be okay. You have to be okay." Sherlock reassured John, but mainly himself.

"Can I tell you something?" John asked and squeezed Sherlock's hand again. Sherlock looked at him with glassy eyes and nodded.

"Anything."

"Do you love me?" The words hit Sherlock like they were fired from the same gun that had injured John. Without any hesitation, he answered.

"Yes, John. I think I do." The smile on John's face was huge. He leaned back against the brick wall and closed his eyes.

"I love you too, Sherlock." He heard the sound of sirens coming from the distance as he clung on to John's lifeless body.

"I love you, I love you, I love you. Please come back, John. I can't live without you." He sobbed. The frigid air and John's rigid body; the worst night of Sherlock Holmes' life.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. It was kind of spur of the moment.


End file.
